


In the Rain

by MamaWithGloriousPurpose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaWithGloriousPurpose/pseuds/MamaWithGloriousPurpose
Summary: The movies made everything in the rain look just swell. Singing in the rain, dancing in it. Nobody fell on their asses or ended up with walking pneumonia for a week. And kissing in the rain? That looked hot enough to melt rings into the arctic circle. But in all of Dean's experiences, kissing in the rain just made him feel like he was drowning.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It rained all day yesterday which naturally made me think of my favorite gif ever. https://66.media.tumblr.com/559a5b20f6f03b227f35ebc13f8c7ea5/tumblr_nkgg4iyCnu1u349k0o2_500.gif (not mine). Imagine it's Dean's third person internal monologue...or something. I don't know. Enjoy!

There are a lot of things that they show in the movies that Dean has first hand experience in. Things that looked sexy when staged just right and played out to the tune of a saucy script, but work out terribly for the average Joe when put into practice. Like sex on the beach. Try sand on your ass. And in, ya know, _everywhere_. Not to mention smelling like low tide. Shower sex? If the water pressure's good and the temperature's just right, it can be nice. But it's a helluva lot more work than just laying someone out on a mattress or slamming them into various other non-slippery surfaces. And making love in the backseat. Well, actually Dean didn't have any complaints in that department. He basically drove a love machine. An aphrodisiac-on-wheels. Simply irresistible. Point is, Dean's a don't-knock-it-til-you-try-it kinda guy. It's just his nature. And he's knocked his fair share.

That's why, when the mood was right and lightning struck twice, Dean both counted his blessings and added another hole punch in his frequent flyer card to hell when he realized he had himself an angel that was open to a roll in the hay. From the moment he laid eyes on Cas, he'd gotten a burn set low that he couldn't extinguish by himself (and oh how he tried). It wasn't until Cas was pissed after a hunt that almost went south - _because Dean Winchester does not take directions from anyone, and sometimes that bites him in the ass_ \- that the angel let his own desire slip. He was frustrated and angry that Dean wouldn't just _listen_ and it almost got him killed. The angel was pinning Dean to an alley wall and threatening him with his own mortality when it happened. It used to be ten kinds of intimidating and quite the rush. Not the pleasant kind, but the piss your pants kind. But Dean knew enough to call Cas' bluff after awhile. That particular night however, before Dean could decide whether he should roll his eyes or fight back, Cas' body gave him away. Pressed tightly between the unforgiving brick and the angel's form, Dean felt Cas shiver as he rubbed up against him. Seeing as how Dean couldn't agree more, _and being the shoot-first-ask-questions-later guy that he thankfully is_ , Dean shoved a knee between Cas' legs and tugged his hips closer. The rest, as they say, is history.

At least the Winchester version of it anyway. Hunter honorably (and impulsively) goes to hell to spare brother from an early (and unfair) death. Angel saves hunter by order of God, (err, God adjacent maybe?). Hunter and angel form bond, become allies, then friends, then yadda yadda, ...and now they're fucking.

Well, not _now_. Right this minute Dean has found himself caught in a weird romcom version of his life. A hunt indubitably went the opposite of north and Dean had almost lost his head. _Literally_. Sammy saved the day, they burned the bastard, and knocked back a few before hitting the road. No sweat. When they met up with Cas at the dank motel they were staying at just outside of Rochester, they recounted the tale to the angel like an anecdote. But Cas didn't seem amused. He was wringing his hands at his sides and letting worry furrow his brow. It was obvious enough that Sam was clearing his throat and announcing that he'd see them inside.

So here they stood, toe to toe in the parking lot just outside of their shared room for the night. The rain was falling down around them and the chill in the air was biting at every inch of skin it could reach. The movies made everything in the rain look just swell. Singing in the rain, dancing in it. Nobody fell on their asses or ended up with walking pneumonia for a week. And kissing in the rain? That looked hot enough to melt rings into the arctic circle. But in all of Dean's experiences, kissing in the rain just made him feel like he was drowning. And by the end of it everything was all wet (and not the good kind). ' _Let's get you out of those wet clothes_.' Mmm, sounds sexy right? Yeah, think of that time you're trying to shuck off your swimsuit.

But with Cas everything was... Different? Better? Worth the effort? Dean doesn't know. Maybe it's because Cas is always so attentive or that he magically mojos all the bad stuff away when he thinks Dean won't notice. Like Dean wouldn't notice perpetually perfect water temperature or instantly cleaned up, baby soft skin. Maybe it was because Dean liked watching Cas go through everything for the first time. For a centuries-old angel, Cas hadn't experienced much of what humanity had to offer. Not that Cas hadn't had sex before, he had. It just ended poorly. As in, she-killed-him level poorly. Jokes on her though. Dean ganked the bitch and Cas is still kicking it so, bygones and all that. But Cas was relatively new to the whole idea of sex, let alone all the sexscapades that followed. Normally that would've been a bit more pressure than Dean would care for. But it was _Cas_. And like so many obstacles before and all the ones that were still to come after, it was worth it with Cas.

So when Cas looked at him like a mix between a nagging-yet-oh-so-hot wife and a nervous puppy, Dean was on him before Sam closed the door. Which he did a bit more pointedly than necessary and with an exaggerated groan. Dean thinks they may have just gotten locked outside, but it's unimportant at the moment. Pneumonia and near drowning and sticky clothes be damned, Dean was going to kiss the fear right off of Cas' stupid face.

His stupid sexy face with its genuine innocence and its little worry lines and its sexed up hair (being the reason Castiel, former angel of The Lord's hair is perpetually fucked is Dean most treasured triumph). No matter what Cas says, he is way more aggravating than Dean is. Dean may be stubborn and dangerous and self degradating, but Cas slips between badass warrior to lost kitten in seconds. And he does it all wearing that sloppy, ill-fitting suit that puts Dean in a constant state of _we-wouldn't-want-another-case-of-indecent-exposure-on-our-conscience-now-would-we_. Dean may be a hundred different kinds of hot and adorable. But Cas is just so very Cas. He could crush Dean with his thighs alone.

Dean snorts at his internal monologue as he plays out the worst case scenario in his mind, before grabbing Cas around the waist. He pulls him close while the rain pummels down around them and whispers words into his lips. "We're fine Cas. I'm fine," he reminds him. "I'm," he kisses him softly once, "right," twice, "here." Dean can't help but smile into it. Cas grabs fistfuls of his jacket and melts right into him. It's cold and it's wet and it's late, not to mention the fact that Dean had skipped dinner and hadn't shower yet after battling whatever kind of bastard they'd bested tonight. It was long since forgotten, because as gross and tacky and chick-flick as it all felt on the outside, Dean's insides were calling this a win.

Kissing in the rain? No thank you. Kissing _Cas_ in the rain? Hell yes. Dean walks the angel backward, fumbling for the back driver's side door on the impala. Screw Sam and his ever increasing prudishness. Dean's got himself an hot car and an even hotter (and pliant) angel and he's pretty damn sure that literally nothing else will matter at all again, _ever_. He swats blindly at the handle, way to into the kiss to break it. He gives up his search momentarily to squish Cas into the cold metal of the car and rut against him like a horny teenager. Cas pushes back with equal enthusiasm. As Dean reaches out and finally finds the handle, he pulls the door open and turns on the charm.

"Hey Cas?" He says a bit out of breath. The angel tilts his head back slightly, raising his eyebrows with interest. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes."


End file.
